


I'll Be Under The Mistletoe

by tieshirtblazer



Category: Glee
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Kurt, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Dirty Talk, Holidays, M/M, Making Love, Mistletoe, Rimming, Romance, Top Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:17:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tieshirtblazer/pseuds/tieshirtblazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Kurt, Blaine, and mistletoe.) Kurt isn’t very well-versed in holiday traditions, and Blaine’s life is exceedingly difficult, until it isn’t. (December 2010 vs. December 2013.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. December 2010

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 is set during 2010, when Blaine and Kurt are attending Dalton together.  
> Part 2 is set in present time, when Blaine and Kurt are engaged. (Includes my version of what our Christmas episode SHOULD have consisted of...)

_December 2010_

Stepping out of his car, Blaine reaches into the pocket of his coat to make sure the tickets are still there. He purchased them just hours ago, and knows however psyched he is to have Kurt at the King’s Island Christmas Spectacular, Kurt will be even more excited at the prospect of a trip to an amusement park during the holidays.

Oh, the holidays. Just one of the many things he and Kurt share a near-obsessive love for. He and Kurt went to the Lima Mall the week after Thanksgiving just to take in the décor; as tacky as some may consider the surplus of tinsel and ornaments and gaudy wreaths, he and Kurt adore open displays of Christmas cheer.

He opens the door to the Lima Bean, taking a moment to smile at the adorable wreath hanging from it, and steps inside.

Kurt’s eyes light up from the table he’s saved them. Blaine grins, rushing towards his friend to deliver the news. “Hey Kurt! Guess what?”

Kurt stands up to give him a warm hug, and as Blaine pulls away he looks at Kurt’s outfit; he is always endlessly amused by the extravagant ensembles Kurt puts together outside of the walls of Dalton Academy. Today, Kurt is decked out in fabulous holiday gear; a glittering red sweater with a reindeer brooch, unbelievably tight green skinny jeans, a candy-cane striped belt, and a—wait a second, is that a—

Blaine does a quick double-take, looking up at Kurt’s smiling face and then glancing back down again and—yes, yes indeed, Kurt Hummel has an actual, honest-to-god sprig of _mistletoe_ hanging casually from his belt, like it isn’t shattering Blaine’s mind to _pieces_ , sending all of his innocent trains of thought colliding into each other in a massive explosion, leaving behind only the most unacceptable and decidedly non-platonic fantasies in their places.

“Kurt,” says Blaine, mouth suddenly dry. “ _Kurt._ ”

“Blaine,” says Kurt, with a soft, uncertain smile. “You were going to tell me something?”

“I’m—you’re—Kurt, what are you _wearing_?”

Kurt’s smile falters instantly. “Oh,” he says softly. “You don’t like my holiday outfit?”

Blaine’s eyes widen. “No no no—Kurt, you know I _love_ your outfits, they’re incredible, I just mean—on your belt, you’re—you’re wearing a—”

“Oh!” Kurt laughs. “Yeah! What do you think? I found it in the holiday section of the boutique I was browsing last week, and you know how I love making odd fashion statements, with my fox tails and what-nots, so I figured, why not put this weird holiday plant on my belt? Isn’t it cute?”

Blaine stares; first at Kurt, who’s smiling with his teeth on display, the very picture of childish innocence, then at the sprig of mistletoe hanging from his belt, baiting him and calling to him, and then at his ass in those skinny jeans—which of course, he has to tilt his head a bit to see but—damn. He is so _fucked_.

“Blaine?” says Kurt, evidently not for the first time.

“Oh! Sorry, I—yes, it’s adorable, it’s brilliant, inspired, all the awards—”

“Blaine, are you alright? Do you want to sit down?”

Blaine falls gracelessly into the chair Kurt pulls out for him. “Sorry, I just. Long day. Grab me a coffee?” He hands Kurt a five-dollar bill, and watches Kurt prance over to the counter. He doesn’t even really need a coffee right now—in fact, what he _does_ need is for Kurt to punch him hard in the dick as soon as possible, but since that’s clearly not an option, he’s going to have to turn a blind eye on the fact that his very beautiful, very innocent, and very best friend is wearing fucking _mistletoe_ right above his crotch, practically begging for a mouth on it, and oh god, Blaine wants nothing more than to give in, but he knows Kurt doesn’t mean it like that, he can’t possibly.

For god’s sake, Blaine has been pulling all the moves—rehearsing _Baby It’s Cold Outside_ seemed like a particularly good one, until he found himself walking away from Kurt very much un-kissed—and Kurt hasn’t shown any interest in taking things further than friendship. Plus, he doesn’t seem like the type whose first move would be to say “suck my cock” with the help of odd Christmas traditions.

Blaine catches himself checking Kurt out as he adds just the right amount of cinnamon to Blaine’s medium-drip. He shakes his head furiously in an attempt to snap out of it, and forces his thoughts elsewhere. King’s Island. Amusement park. Riding with Kurt on the park’s wildest roller-coaster. Stopping at the concession stands for roasted chestnuts. Licking hot chocolate off of Kurt’s face— _wait, fuck!_

“Here you go! Now spill,” says Kurt cheerfully, placing Blaine’s coffee on the table. “Not literally!” he adds with a laugh.

 _I’m so in love with you_ , thinks Blaine desperately. “So you know how I’m singing at the King’s Island—”

“Christmas Spectacular?” finishes Kurt. “Of course! How could I forget? Baby it’s cold outside, remember?”

“Exactly,” says Blaine smiling. “Well, I thought we could make a date of it! I mean—not a date, but I’ve got us tickets for one of the show dates! What do you say? You, me, a full day of amusement and holiday cheer?”

Kurt claps his hands together. “Say no more! I’m there.” He immediately rattles off a list of rides he wants to go on, of things he’s heard about the park’s holiday decorations, and Blaine lets himself get lost in the musical sound of his voice, his insides warm and fuzzy with affection, and his mind finally distracted from the temptation that hangs from Kurt’s belt.

\---

A couple weeks later, when school is out for the holidays, Blaine finds himself standing outside of Kurt’s friend Rachel’s house for her “First Annual Non-Denominational Holiday Extravaganza”—referred to only in full, according to the invitation he received. He can hear raucous voices singing _Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree_ inside, and smiles fondly, trying to pick out Kurt’s voice from the bunch.

One of Rachel’s dads opens the door and immediately ushers him towards the basement. “They’re just downstairs!” he says with a wink, “Sounds like a jolly good time!”

“Thank you so much for having us over, sir,” says Blaine, polite as ever.

The man laughs, squeezing his shoulder before walking off. Blaine walks down the stairs towards the party, and hears Kurt exclaim when he reaches the bottom.

“Blaine!” he shrieks, running towards him to envelop him in a hug. Blaine holds Kurt close, having missed him over the five days they’ve been apart since King’s Island, and reluctantly pulls away when Kurt loosens his hold.

“Kiss, kiss!” chants Rachel.

“What?” squeaks Kurt, staring at her in shock, hand stilling where it lingers on Blaine’s lapel.

“You’ve got to mack on your man, dude!” yells another one of their friends, the guy with the crazy mohawk. “Come on, look up!”

 _Oh God_ , thinks Blaine as he looks above their heads, eyes landing immediately on the mistletoe affixed to the ceiling. He looks back at Kurt, who is staring upwards in confusion.

“Dude, it’s mistletoe! Lay one on him!”

Kurt’s eyes squint adorably as he looks at the mistletoe, and then he snorts. “So _this_ is what mistletoe looks like?! I had no idea!” He laughs while Blaine’s heart pounds in his chest. “I even wore this on my belt the other week,” continues Kurt, “and Blaine was so—” He pauses suddenly, eyes widening.

 _Oh fuck_ , thinks Blaine, blushing to the tips of his ears, _he knows now, he knows how depraved I am, oh my GOD_.

“Yeah, Hummel! Get it!” says the guy with the mohawk, and wow, _fuck_ this peanut gallery. _So_ not helping.

“You’ve gotta kiss him, boy,” says Mercedes with a knowing look on her face. _Oh crap,_ thinks Blaine, _does she know that I like him?_

At this point, Kurt’s blushing too, and Blaine can’t help but take pity on him. “Sorry,” he whispers as he leans forward, “it’s tradition.” He gives Kurt a quick peck on the lips and ignores the chorus of disappointed groans from Kurt’s friends. Kurt’s eyes, which had fluttered closed before Blaine kissed him, open again, and Kurt gives a shaky laugh.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, pulling Blaine into the room. “For not making a show of it.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” says Blaine, with an arm around Kurt’s waist. _Even though I want to, so badly._

An hour later, the mistletoe is once again forgotten—by Kurt and him, at least, though Kurt’s friends make good use of it—and Blaine thinks to himself, _Crisis averted_.

\---

Later that night, when the party winds down and Blaine finds himself cuddling with Kurt on the couch— _platonically!!!,_ Blaine’s brain reminds him, three exclamation points included—Kurt brings it up again.

“Blaine,” says Kurt hesitantly, shifting in Blaine’s arms. “What were you thinking when you saw that… mistletoe on my belt the other day?”

 _I was thinking of kissing you all over,_ thinks Blaine, _and making you cry out while I sucked you off, right there in the middle of the Lima Bean._

“Nothing,” says Blaine slowly. “I was just… worried someone would take it the wrong way.”

“Oh,” says Kurt, and Blaine wonders why he sounds so disappointed. “Well, thank you for always looking out for me.”

“Any time,” breathes Blaine into his hair.


	2. December 2013

_December 2013_

Blaine hums to himself as he walks up the steps leading to Kurt’s apartment in Brooklyn. Originally, Kurt had planned on coming to Lima for Christmas, but the two of them decided that with Rachel and Santana visiting home for the holidays, they might as well make use of the apartment in New York for a romantic Christmas alone. (Kurt had waggled his eyebrows suggestively when he’d brought up the idea over Skype—Blaine can only hope this means his immediate future holds the promise of lots of sex with his beautiful fiancé.)

Blaine had ended up booking his flight a few days early with Kurt’s approval, which means that Rachel is currently still around, as her flight home leaves tomorrow. (As a result, any enthusiastically loud love-making will be postponed till after her departure, but Blaine can’t complain, as just being in Kurt’s presence is enough for him.)

“Blaine!” Kurt exclaims from the kitchen as Blaine opens the door. Blaine drops his duffel bag on the floor and holds out his arms as Kurt jumps into them. They hold each other tight for a few blissfully long seconds, basking in the warmth their hugs always bring. Blaine kisses Kurt, first on the cheek and then, when Kurt tilts his head, on the lips, slow, unhurried, and loving.

Suddenly, Kurt pulls away and wriggles out of Blaine’s arms, an entirely too devious look on his face. He turns, hips sashaying enticingly as he walks to the kitchen table. “Can I interest you in some eggnog, dearest?” he calls with his back to Blaine, turning only his neck to look back towards him.

Blaine’s higher functioning stutters and ceases when he notices it. There, hanging nonchalantly from Kurt’s belt, right over his pert ass— _mistletoe_.

Blaine’s mouth drops open, blood pounding between his ears. With each passing second of silence, Kurt’s smirk grows wider, and his ass wiggles just a bit faster.

“Is that Blaine?” calls Rachel. “Oh my god, it is! Blaine, it’s good to see you! How are—are you okay?”

Blaine breathes heavily, eyes fixed only on his prize. “Bedroom,” he says hoarsely, “now.”

Rachel looks between them and then—bless her—retreats to her bedroom. “I’ll just watch some movies on my laptop,” she says.

“Use the noise-cancelling headphones I got you last Christmas,” says Kurt, licking his lips.

\---

Barely a second passes before Blaine darts towards Kurt, their mouths crashing together hotly. There’s no time for sweet romance, not now, when Blaine feels need rushing through his body like a freight train. He pushes Kurt blindly against the nearest surface, which turns out to be the refrigerator, and the clatter of magnets hitting the floor does nothing to distract either of them.

Kurt moans into his mouth, wanton, pulling Blaine flush against him. He hooks a leg around Blaine’s hip, and Blaine lifts the other one for him, wrapping it around his waist and palming his ass roughly through his skintight jeans.

“I thought you—” Kurt gasps, “I thought you said bedroom?”

Blaine growls, rutting into him so hard that Kurt slides up the fridge, dislodging even more magnets. This time, Kurt takes notice. “Oh for God’s sake, take me to the bedroom.”

“Fuck yes,” says Blaine. Blindsided by lust, Blaine attempts over-ambitiously to lift Kurt into his arms and carry him all the way there, and, while Blaine succeeds for at least eight steps, Kurt guffaws when he stumbles and drops him.

“Shut up,” says Blaine, embarrassed, “shut your stupid face.”

“You love my stupid face.”

“I love everything about you.”

Kurt’s face softens. “And I you.” He pulls Blaine closer by the scarf and freezes. “Wow, we didn’t even manage to get you out of your outerwear!”

Blaine looks down and laughs, tugging off his scarf and coat in record time. “To be fair, I was very distracted.”

“Mmhmm,” says Kurt with a knowing smile. “I can’t imagine why.” He turns around and walks to his room, mistletoe bobbing against his ass, and Blaine can barely restrain his own whimper.

Kurt is already halfway out of his jeans when Blaine steps inside. Blaine admires the pale skin of his thighs and then chuckles. “Really? Is that even a question?”

Kurt laughs, shaking his hips to show off his tight briefs, the words “Naughty or nice?” emblazoned over his ass. Jeans finally off, Kurt’s shirt quickly follows, and he’s left standing in only his underwear.

“Bend over,” says Blaine, “hands on the bed.”

“Fuck,” says Kurt as he complies.

Blaine moves to stand behind him, gripping his ass cheeks and rubbing his clothed cock against them. “I believe we have a holiday tradition to observe.”

“Blaine,” Kurt whines, pushing back against him.

Blaine kneels slowly, mouthing at the dimples on Kurt’s back, teeth scraping against his skin. He continues downwards and his teeth catch on the fabric of Kurt’s briefs.

“You’ve been very naughty this year,” he murmurs, pulling Kurt’s briefs down with his teeth and fingers. He nips and sucks on the newly-revealed skin, and follows the path of Kurt’s briefs with his tongue.

When they hit the floor, he suckles his way back up Kurt’s thighs, which tremble with anticipation. “C’mon,” Kurt moans, “please, Blaine.”

Blaine parts his cheeks with his fingers and leans in, swiping his tongue quickly against Kurt’s dusky pink hole. Kurt stifles a whimper.

“On the bed,” says Blaine, pushing at his thighs until Kurt’s on top of the mattress, head resting on a pillow, ass in the air. Blaine kneels on the floor behind him, mouth level with his hole, and spits.

“Oh god,” says Kurt when Blaine buries his nose between his cheeks, suckling wet kisses against him. Blaine loves this, loves doing this to Kurt, more than anything. The noises he makes, the way he tastes, the feel of him against his tongue.

Blaine is barely aware of the guttural moans he himself is making as he sucks and licks into Kurt, tongue sliding inside of him, getting him nice and wet. Distantly, he registers the drawn-out high-pitched whine Kurt is letting out, barely muffled by the pillow under him. _Rachel_ , he thinks, tongue in Kurt’s ass, _is so goddamn lucky to have those noise-cancelling headphones right now._

He breathes deeply through his nose and grips Kurt’s thighs in both hands, knowing full well how easily Kurt’s skin bruises. He takes in a heaving breath and then holds it inside as he presses his tongue as far into Kurt as he can. Sometimes, he thinks he might have better breath control than most Olympic swimmers, just from his years of practice at eating Kurt out like a fucking champion.

“Fuck,” says Blaine when he finally comes up for air, breath hot against Kurt’s asshole. “I could do this to you for hours.”

“Blaine,” Kurt whines, high and needy, thighs shaking as he ruts into the mattress. “Please, I need more.”

“What’s that?” says Blaine in between sucking kisses. “My tongue isn’t enough for your greedy little asshole?”

“No, fuck, baby, need your cock,” Kurt gasps, “please, baby, I—oh _god_ —I need you inside.”

“Fuck,” says Blaine as he pulls away, voice wrecked. “Look at you.” He runs his hand over the globes of Kurt’s ass, lets his fingers catch on the rim of his hole.

Kurt groans into his pillow. “Baby, you’re—you’re being a tease.”

“ _I’m_ being a tease?” says Blaine, leaning down again to nose between Kurt’s cheeks. “Says the very same boy who met me in a coffee shop wearing mistletoe above his pretty cock three years ago?” Blaine sits up with a huff, swatting Kurt lightly on the ass before he reaches for the lube on Kurt’s bedside table. “Do you have any idea what that did to me?” He pours lube on Kurt’s asshole and slides his fingers through it, pushing in one, and then two, with ease.

He watches as Kurt smirks into his pillow. “As much as I love this— _fuck, that’s good_ —this trip down memory lane,” says Kurt, “I’d really like it if you put your cock in me ASAP.”

“You’re a dirty little tease, Kurt Hummel,” growls Blaine, withdrawing his fingers to unzip his pants and pull his cock out. “And I’m gonna fuck you with my clothes on.”

“Oh _fuck_ yes,” says Kurt, “God, I missed you. Missed your mouth, missed your dick.”

“Oh yeah?” says Blaine, pressing the head of his bare cock against Kurt’s wet hole. “What else did you miss?”

“Missed your—oh _fuck_ ,” says Kurt as Blaine slides in. Blaine groans, mouth dropping open and eyes screwing shut as he takes in the sensation of _Kurt_ , tight around him, muscles clenching to pull him inside.

“Oh god,” says Blaine, hands settled on Kurt’s hips. “I take it back. _This_ I could do forever.”

“I’ll give you three lifetimes for each,” says Kurt, “if you’ll just fucking _move_.”

Blaine snaps his hips in response, fucking slowly into Kurt, who gets up from his pillow and braces himself on his elbows.

“Oh, oh, oh,” whimpers Kurt with each thrust, no longer muffling the noises he makes. “You feel so good, Blaine. Love you so much.”

“Love you too,” says Blaine, bending to cover Kurt’s body with his own, palms flat against the mattress. He nips playfully at Kurt’s ear as he speeds up his thrusts, shifting his hips until Kurt’s moans get louder. He hears an odd noise and realizes his belt buckle is smacking into Kurt’s ass, well on its way to leaving a bruise behind.

“Oh god,” whines Kurt, turning his head, “Blaine, kiss me.”

Blaine nuzzles into Kurt’s neck and kisses up his jaw. “Hold on, just let me get out of these—” He pulls out quickly to strip off the rest of his clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. Once he’s naked, he slides his cock back inside and hooks his arms under Kurt’s, bearing down on him until their bodies lie flat against the bed. He thrusts slower now, head bowed to cover Kurt’s mouth with his own. Kurt gasps into him, jaw slack and mouth relaxed against his.

Kurt loves this, he knows. Loves feeling surrounded by him. “I love you, Kurt Hummel,” he whispers into Kurt’s mouth. “Love that I’m getting married to you, and that this time next year,” he says with a deep thrust, “you’ll be my husband.”

“Yes,” says Kurt, “yes, yes, yes. We’re gonna be married. I’m—fuck—I’m yours forever, always.” He’s babbling now, adorably, and Blaine cannot put into words how much he loves him. “Oh god,” says Kurt, “Baby please. Make me come, I need it.” He tries to sneak an arm under his body, but Blaine stops him.

“Just from my cock, Kurt. You can do it, I know you.” He increases his pace again, and Kurt melts into the mattress, gasping with each snap of Blaine’s hips.

“I’ve got you, Kurt. Come on, sweetheart. Let go.” After a few more sharp thrusts, Kurt stiffens and cries out, rutting into the mattress as he comes. His asshole clenches around Blaine’s cock and Blaine lets out a groan, fucking into Kurt even faster, pounding him into the mattress.

“Oh fuck,” says Kurt, slumped into his bed and giddy from his orgasm. “Come on, Blaine. Come in my ass. Fill me up.”

After one last thrust, Blaine shudders and comes so hard he nearly blacks out, face buried in Kurt’s sweaty hair. He stays there while he comes down from his high, peppering Kurt’s damp hairline with kisses.

“Heavy,” mumbles Kurt below him. Blaine huffs out a laugh and rolls them both onto their sides, spooning Kurt from behind, his soft cock still in Kurt’s ass.

Blaine starts to pull out but Kurt whines in protest. “No,” he says, eyes closed. “Like this. Let’s stay like this.”

Blaine smiles into his neck and holds him closer. “Yeah,” he says, breathing him in. “Let’s stay like this forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello! thank you for all the positive feedback on my first fic. consider this a little gift of Christmas cheer! don't you just love mistletoe? <3


End file.
